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And kept the clust'ring enemy in check, Till our encouraged Romans followed us.

My old companion then, the valiant Sylvius. Thou'st done hard service since I saw thee last: Thy countenance is mark'd with graver lines Than in those greener days: I knew thee not. Where goest thou now? I'll bear thee company.

I thank thee: yet thou may'st not go with me. The way that I am wending suits not thee, Though suiting well the noble and the brave. It were not well, in fiery times like these, To tempt thy generous mind.

What dost thou mean?

Did I not hear thee commune with thyself Of that most blessed Martyr gone to rest, Varus Dobella?

How blessed? My unsettled thoughts were busy With things mysterious; with those magic powers That work the mind to darkness and destruction; With the sad end of the deluded Varus.

Not so, not so! The wisest prince on earth, With treasured wealth and armies at command,